


A Mystery Unveiling

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Happy Ending, M/M, Polyamory, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another try at FPS, this is a Fourth Age story where Celeborn is bothered by his Marchwarden's secret, Glorfindel is bothered by Celeborn being nosy, and everything's better in Valinor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mystery Unveiling

**Author's Note:**

> Notes for this story including translations are available [here](http://v-angelique.dreamwidth.org/97682.html?#cutid1).

"I sail in three days."

"Delay it."

"I cannot."

"Galadriel…"

"I am weary, Celeborn. The ban is lifted, my powers have faded, and now I must go home. You will come when you are ready."

"But how will I know?"

She smiled and brushed his cheek with the back of her pale hand, which appeared even now fragile, as if it had started to fade. "You are Celeborn the Wise. You will know."

 

~*~

 

"What troubles you, friend?"

Celeborn looked up, startled, into the concerned bright eyes of his Marchwarden. He hadn't noticed Haldir's approach, which was unusual. Over the ages they had known each other, Celeborn had snuck up on Haldir and his brothers many times, but rarely did any of them manage the reverse. He traced the veins of a mallorn leaf with his fingertip, looking down again, and sighed.

"My beloved has sailed. Is it any great shock that I am troubled?" he asked with a wan smile.

Haldir waited before responding, thinking about his words. Celeborn waited patiently, watching the way dapples of sunlight fell on the broad golden leaf, and then let it fall to the ground again, crunching it under his foot.

"You will see her again. You know this."

"Yes, but it is still a physical loss," Celeborn replied, somewhat harshly. "What would you know of this?"

Haldir was silent, and after a moment Celeborn looked up, taking in his companion's hunched shoulders and dejected, but resigned expression.

"I am sorry," he said genuinely. "Please, sit. It is wrong of me to take my loneliness out on you."

"I am not a child," Haldir replied stiffly as he sat. "I can bear it."

"Haldir, why have you never found a companion?" Celeborn asked.

Haldir looked up, surprised, and shrugged his shoulders. "It is not my choice, is it?"

"No, but it is more than that," Celeborn said, narrowing his eyes. "There is something else. I don't know why I didn't see it before, but…"

"My Lord, please," Haldir requested. Celeborn didn't lower his eyes, and he could see that the emotion Haldir was evidently trying to hide smacked of shame.

"What troubles _you_, Haldir?" Celeborn asked softly. "I would like to know."

"It is nothing," Haldir said quickly.

"Haldir…"

"May I not keep some secrets, even from you?"

Celeborn frowned and nodded. Haldir left him, footfalls barely audible on the fallen leaves, and Celeborn tilted his head back, looking up through the trees and into the pale early winter sun.

~*~

"I am concerned for my Marchwarden," Celeborn admitted, looking out over one of the brilliant falls of Rivendell, still a magnificent haven even as its beauty waned with the slow passing of the Elves.

Glorfindel made a noise somewhat akin to a smirk, and Celeborn eyed him strangely. "It has taken you long to notice."

"Notice _what_?" Celeborn asked, annoyed.

"Ah, that you must discover for yourself, if you do not already know. I would not betray his trust."

"His trust?!" Celeborn exclaimed. "He has confided in you?"

"No," Glorfindel corrected. "Not as such. I guessed his predicament when he was just a lad, and he asked that I not mention it to another Elf, especially you. I must honour that promise."

"But… if this is something that afflicts him so greatly, how have I not _noticed_?"

"It is not an affliction," Glorfindel replied, almost bitterly, "and I would thank you not to refer to it as such."

"All right…" Celeborn agreed. "But how can I speak of it politely if I do not know what it _is_?"

"Have you considered asking him?"

"Of course," Celeborn replied. "He asked that I respect his privacy."

Glorfindel nodded, and Celeborn watched the birds swoop low over the glen, no wiser than he had been when he left Lothlorien.

 

~*~

 

"No matter how old they become, I do not think any of them will ever grow up."

Haldir startled, turning away from the stream below. He had been watching the twins and his own brothers, Oropher and Rumil, splashing about and playing boyish games, and Celeborn felt for some reason compelled to interrupt.

Once he got over his surprise, Haldir smiled kindly and stepped to the side to allow his Lord room to stand beside him.

"I suspect you are right, but I find it admirable. There is a sort of innocence there that few of us have left."

"And yet they are not so much younger than you, Haldir."

"No," he agreed, frowning. "But I have seen much in recent years."

"Of course." They watched the younger four in silence for a moment before Celeborn again felt compelled to speak. "I feel that I offend you much as of late, my friend. I fear that I cannot speak candidly, for I often misstep. If there is something I can do to remedy this, I beseech you to let me know – not as your superior, but as your friend."

Haldir frowned. "It is not so simple."

"No?" Celeborn nodded, accepting it. "I have been distracted, but this is no excuse. When I was younger, when I first took Elves under my command, I was a better, more compassionate leader. I knew every detail of my soldiers' lives, especially those closest to me in rank, and I tried to teach when I could and learn when I could not. But lately I have shirked my duties and grown complacent. I owe you an apology."

"Lord, none is needed. You are an inspired Captain."

"And an uninspired friend. Please, Haldir. Do not couch your feelings in niceties. What have I done to make you so uncomfortable around me?"

"Nothing, my Lord."

"I cannot believe you."

"It is not… you would not understand."

"How can you be certain if I do not know what troubles you?"

"Because it isn't _normal_, Celeborn!" Haldir exclaimed, whipping around with blonde hair flying behind his back, his eyes angry. Celeborn wasn't used to such a lashing out from a subordinate, but even more noteworthy was the use of his name, which he had never heard from Haldir's lips, at least not unpreceded by a "Lord."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Haldir lowered his eyes, the first to back down. "I am sorry, my Lord."

"What isn't normal?" Celeborn asked, his tone firm.

"I cannot tell you, for you would think far less of me."

"Have you hurt someone, Haldir?"

"No."

"Do you plan to?"

"No."

"Are you hurting yourself?"

Haldir hesitated longer this time, and then shook his head. "No."

"Then I do not see how this abnormality would lower my opinion of you."

"I am sorry, my Lord," Haldir said quietly, turning to walk away without being dismissed. "I cannot."

~*~

"I have tried speaking with him."

"Give him time," Glorfindel said gently, with a hint of rebuke in his tone.

"But he worries me!"

"Even the very wise must occasionally worry," Glorfindel replied with a small smile.

"You are mocking me."

"Yes."

Celeborn sighed. "There is something," he murmured, thoughtful. "He is ashamed of something, and he perceives it has some affect on his lack of a life partner." Glorfindel did not answer, but sat quietly, watching Celebron puzzle it out. "He said that it is not normal. He became angry when I questioned him, and he does not want other Elves to know, especially me. But yet _you_ guessed it. I do not understand." Celeborn frowned. "He is not unbecoming. He is hard-working, an excellent warrior, brave, successful, loyal… what quality could Haldir have that would render him unfit for a woman's companionship? He is an ideal Elf!"

Glorfindel smiled, just slightly.

"It must be… it must be something that affects you both. I do not think you would have guessed it, otherwise. It is most puzzling."

Glorfindel shrugged. "Perhaps. I will not give you hints, my friend."

"Yes, I am aware of that." Sighing again, Celeborn picked up a leaf and turned it over in his hand. "You have not found companionship either, but you walk in two worlds, you are unlike any other Elf. Surely this is your reason, and it cannot be his."

Again, Glorfindel did not answer, and Celeborn narrowed his eyes.

"Unless… my assumption must be incorrect. It must be something else."

"Oh, Celeborn. Do not hurt yourself. If you are meant to know, you will know. Eventually."

"That is no great comfort, Glorfindel, when a friend is in need."

"Perhaps. But we cannot always be comforted."

~*~

When the summer came, it grew warm in Rivendell, warmer than it had ever been in the dark days of recent years, and Celeborn found himself tossing and turning when he had intended to sleep. It did not help, of course, that the plush Imladris bed, fit for a King and indeed very comfortable, did not contain his lady. Thoughts of Galadriel would only drive him mad, so he chose instead to take a midnight walk.

The gardens of the great haven looked different at night, but no less beautiful, lit by a nearly full moon. Descending the stairs and winding along the pathways, he decided to take a dip in one of the streams, fed by a waterfall that originated at the river Isen. He had stripped down to his breeches when he realised that he was not alone.

"My Lord," Haldir intoned softly, barely audible even to Elven ears over the roar of the falls. His bare chest appeared pale in the moonlight, and the water rose just below his navel.

"Good evening, Haldir," Celeborn replied, removing his final garments when Haldir had turned his back respectfully and then slipping into the cool water. "Did you have trouble sleeping as well?"

Haldir turned to face him again and smiled sadly. "It is rare that I sleep, my Lord."

"You are safe in Imladris. You understand this? The Enemy is no more. You can rest now, Haldir."

"It is not the Enemy that haunts me."

Celeborn frowned deeply. "You are haunted, my friend?"

"Only by my own foolishness."

"I do not understand, Haldir. You have always been measured, careful…"

"In my actions, but not always in my thoughts."

"I wish you were able to share them. Perhaps it would help you find peace."

"No, my Lord. I am afraid that they are altogether too shameful."

"You say that you are not hurting anyone, nor yourself. Do you _desire_ to do one of those things?"

"Of course not," Haldir snapped. "I only desire pleasure."

A silence fell, and Haldir's cheeks coloured.

"Is that why you are afraid?" Celeborn asked, gently. "Do you think you are selfish? Mellon-nin, it is not shameful to want."

"I am selfish," Haldir replied. "It would benefit us all if I were to ignore it. I wish you wouldn't speak of it."

"Haldir. Who is this woman? Please, tell me. Does she already have a companion?"

"There is no woman," Haldir replied tightly.

"Well there must be a woman," Celeborn said dismissively. "It is the only thing that could be wrong, from all you have said, and I only wish to know…"

"It is not a woman!" Haldir yelled suddenly, startling Celeborn. "It is not a _woman_ I desire!"

Celeborn stared for a long moment as Haldir turned away. "Haldir, it isn't… is it a _male_ Elf?" he asked gently. He had heard of such things, once, long ago, but had chosen to forget. Haldir did not answer, but waded silently to the bank, pulling himself out of the water onto a rock. Celeborn only thought to turn away when he reached for his clothing, and when he turned back, Haldir was gone.

~*~

"So you have discovered his secret," Glorfindel said, sitting down next to Celeborn at the midday meal, his tone unusually caustic. "Congratulations."

"Glorfindel, where is he?" Celeborn asked softly. "I desire to speak with him."

"Well he does not desire to speak with _you_, and I will not alert you as to his whereabouts until you are ready."

"Don't be silly. Elrond will tell me."

"Elrond doesn't know."

"Why are you angry with me? It is a shock, of course it is a shock, but I am not offended. If he chooses a companion… of that sort," Celeborn said cautiously, aware of the other Elves at the table, "then I only hope that he is happy."

"He is miserable," Glorfindel said, "Because he will not find another 'of that sort.' It is a rare predisposition among our race, more common among Men, and it is not so easy. I do not care whether you are _offended_. I care for his spirit. I fear he may fade before he reaches Valinor."

Celeborn stared at him, not touching his plate. "But he is young, healthy…"

"… and heartsick. I know."

"Glorfindel," Celeborn said softly. "Were you… Ecthelion, did you…"

"I would _thank_ you," Glorfindel said sharply. "Not to think of things of which you do not know."

"Then why did you come back?" Celeborn murmured.

Glorfindel frowned. "Because I had a part left to play."

"And Haldir?"

"May yet have such a part. But I worry for him."

"Will you tell him," Celeborn asked gently, "that when he is ready, I would like to see him?"

Glorfindel nodded, and turned to his food.

~*~

"It is an unlikely evening for a swim," a voice spoke out of the darkness, making Celeborn jump and whip his head around, his wet hair slowing the movement. He could barely make out Haldir's form, standing on the bank, as the moon was new and the clouds overhead were heavy. The water was cool, but refreshing, and Celeborn had found himself bathing here more often in the past two weeks.

"Glorfindel suggested that I speak with you," Haldir continued, sitting down on the big rock. Celeborn moved closer until he could see Haldir more clearly, and noticed that his skin appeared pale even in the darkness, his eyes heavy.

"I am surprised," Celeborn replied softly. "Glorfindel has been no ally of mine lately."

Haldir smiled. "No. He is only trying to protect me, but I confess it only makes it worse. I have never been an Elf in need of protection."

Celeborn opened his mouth to apologize, or to say that he did not take offence regarding Haldir's preferences, but he remembered Glorfindel's reaction and something else entirely came out. "Please tell me what I might do to help you."

Haldir frowned. "I fear there is nothing. But thank you, mellon-nin. I appreciate your kindness."

Celeborn bowed his head slightly.

"Haldir, have you… always known?"

Haldir nodded. "Since I was an Elfling, my Lord."

"And yet you did not seem so troubled in past days."

"My thoughts were elsewhere. Did you never wonder why I was so dedicated to my duties, why I was so intent on promotion? I wanted to protect our kingdom, but… I also wanted to distract my mind."

"And now there are no such distractions."

"No."

"I hope you will find the West more peaceful."

Haldir frowned. "I do not think I shall go West, Celeborn."

"But… if you stay here you will surely fade!"

"And so it shall be. I have no reason to think that the Undying Lands will be any different, and I hope that Mandos will take pity on me and allow me to bide my time in his halls until the ending of the world, rather than suffer this dull ache time and time again."

Celeborn frowned. "But, Haldir…does your heart not long for home?"

"My heart longs for something that I can never have."

"I cannot believe that," Celeborn said softly. "Illuvatar is not so cruel."

"Perhaps it is not Illuvatar. Perhaps it is evil that dwells in my heart."

"It is not," Celeborn said, with no hesitation. "I have seen great evil in my lifetime, and this is not like it in any way. It is only… unusual. Beautiful things can be the most unusual, Haldir."

The Marchwarden's eyes lowered, and he sat silently for a moment before rising to his feet. "I do not know. Enjoy your swim, my Lord."

~*~

A month after Celeborn discovered Haldir's secret, the King Elessar came with his Queen on an errand to Rivendell. Haldir stayed for the most part out of the way, and Elessar was most interested in talking with Elrond and the twins and Glorfindel, anyway. But one afternoon, he was looking over old maps in one of Imladris's libraries when the Nùmenorian came in.

"Haldir. Mae govannen."

Haldir nodded, bowing his head slightly. "Mae govannen, Elessar."

"What are you looking at? Is this Doriath?"

Haldir nodded, stepping to the side so that the man could look at the old map. "I was only thinking… the defences here, it appears they were weakest," he explained, pointing to a wall. Elessar smiled and gently touched his shoulder.

"I find it difficult also," he admitted. "Being at peace. It is not in our blood, is it?"

Haldir sighed. "It is what we have earned. We should rejoice, should we not?"

"You have been troubled," Aragorn said gently. "I have spoken with Glorfindel."

"He…"

"Please. Do not be angry with him. We are old friends, I have known his secret for many years. I might have guessed, had I known you better."

Haldir pursed his lips, gazing again at the map. "It is of no consequence. I intend to remain here, on Middle-earth."

"And fade."

"I am already on that path, Aragorn. I feel it in my soul."

"I cannot pretend to understand loneliness," Aragorn admitted. "I have always known that she was there. But I understand difference."

"It is not the same," Haldir said, a little sharply. "She is an Elf, but she is still a woman. It is not unprecedented. There are stories, you know of Beren and Luthien, Tuor and Idril…"

"And you know of Glorfindel and Ecthelion. I do not believe that it is your destiny to pass out of memory, Haldir."

"And what is there for me in the West?"

Aragorn held up his hands. "I do not know. I cannot. But… it is one thing to fade because the one you love remains. It is another to choose to do so when the one you will love may await you on another shore."

"What? Do you think Elves in the Undying Lands are so different? What do you know about Aman?"

"Nothing," Aragorn said. "Only what my heart tells me."

"Well," Haldir sighed. "I am happy for you, my friend. My own heart, I fear, is dead."

~*~

Throughout the months, Celeborn continued to question Haldir, to press him and then to retreat, worried at the gaunt look in his eyes and his body. He would do anything to bring Haldir back, he realised, his loyalty to Haldir no less than what Haldir had shown him for so many years in battle.

When winter came, harsh winds blew through Rivendell from the East, but Haldir continued to spend much of his time outdoors, wandering aimlessly, when he wasn't huddled in a library with his maps. One day, Celeborn approached him, pacing on a high grassy terrace.

"I had another thought," Celeborn said, ignoring Haldir's small groan. "Aragorn shared a theory, about Men and Elves, how perhaps what you and Glorfindel feel is much like what he feels for Arwen and what…"

"I heard his theory," Haldir hissed.

"Listen to me, Haldir, only a moment," Celeborn exclaimed, exasperated. "It is an excellent theory, it makes sense, and there is hope in it if you only…"

"And who is my Beren?" Haldir shouted, cutting him off. "You?"

Celeborn stopped dead in his own pacing and watched as Haldir tensed, his body becoming stone. The wind whipped between them, and even the birds fell silent. Their eyes remained locked, and suddenly Celeborn surged forward, his hands gripping Haldir's arms. A decade ago, Haldir might have reacted defensively, but there was no fight left in him. When Celeborn's slammed his lips into Haldir's, the soldier fell motionless, his body going pliant with shock.

"You call me Lord," Celeborn whispered into his mouth, his eyes on fire, putting voice to things he had only thought fleetingly, in the shadows of the night. "You call me liege. What if you were to call me love?"

Haldir stared, not reacting nor seeming to understand the ferocity of Celeborn's sudden touch. But a moment later, the fierce, bruising hands left his arms, and Celeborn crumpled, the weight of what he had done overtaking him.

"I… I am sorry," he whispered, stumbling as he turned to run.

~*~

Celeborn spent the evening and most of the next two days in his chambers, with his guard bringing him meals. Not Haldir, of course, nor his younger brothers, but strangers from the House of Elrond, well-clad and courteous but not friendly or familiar. On the third evening, Celeborn finally emerged and went to the room that had served as his private study since the Lórien elves arrived, intending to take his mind off the young Marchwarden and the double nature of his fear – fear, on the one hand, of what would happen when he reunited with Galadriel and told his tale; fear, on the other, of the fate of his heart were he to simply live Haldir here to fade.

When he shut the door behind himself, however, he was caught off guard with a slender arrow pointed at his neck. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't," Glorfindel growled.

Celeborn sighed, pressing one hand to his forehead. "You might as well. It would be an easier solution."

Glorfindel grunted and lowered his bow. "Which is why I won't give you the satisfaction. You imbecile!" he shouted, dropping his bow and shoving Celeborn hard against the wall. "How dare you toy with his feelings in this way, when he is so weak?"

"I do not _toy_, Glorfindel," Celeborn hissed, meeting the Noldor's eyes though he did not physically resist.

"What else can it be?" Glorfindel exclaimed, shaking his shoulders. "Galadriel has your heart, Celeborn!"

"You think I do not _know_ that?" Celeborn roared, shoving him away. "Haryas indonya, mal mern sé!"

Glorfindel stared at him for a long moment, his chest heaving, before he spoke. "You will hurt him."

"I will hurt us both," Celeborn whispered. "You were right, Glorfindel. I am selfish."

Bending to the ground, he lifted the great Noldorin bow and placed it into Glorfindel's hands, meeting his eyes once more before he turned and left the room.

~*~

"I appear, once again, to have lost my Marchwarden."

Elrond looked up from what he was writing. He did not look amused.

"You no longer have a kingdom, Celeborn. You have no need for a general."

"I have a need," Celeborn said softly, honestly, "for him."

Elrond frowned. "I may not have a Ring of Power to tell me what is going on in my own house, but I see that there is some conflict between the two of you, and I have no desire to help you continue it. Spare the boy, Celeborn."

"What makes you think that I am the one hurting him?"

"I have two eyes in my head."

Celeborn sighed. "If there were anything I could do to stop his fading, I would do it."

Elrond raised an eyebrow. "Would you?"

"Anything," Celeborn amended, "Within my power."

"Hmm. Assuming you know the boundaries of your own power."

"Are you mocking me, Elrond?"

"I am being honest."

"Has Glorfindel spoken with you?"

"Only to some extent. I do not wish to know everything."

Celeborn sighed. "Nor do I, but if I can save him…"

"Can you?"

"I am not certain. I am not certain of anything anymore. If only I could ask her…"

"But you cannot. Trust me, Celeborn, for I have more experience in this than you. You cannot seek her counsel, so you must find it in your heart. That is the only way."

Celeborn nodded. "If only my heart were clear."

"Perhaps you are listening, then, to your head."

"Will you help me to find him?"

"I will send a message, if that is your desire."

"Tell him… tell him that I meant what I said. Tell him…" He bowed his head. "Tell him that I am afraid. But I am not leaving."

Elrond was silent for a long moment, his eyes appraising, but at least he nodded and gestured to the door. "Very well. I will tell him."

~*~

"I do not understand how you could have meant it, but I will give you the opportunity to explain yourself," Haldir said, tightly, as he stepped through the gate of the high-walled garden.

Celeborn pressed his fingers to his temples, hearing the rustle of Haldir's clothing as he sat on the stone bench beside his captain. "There are many reasons to choose a mate," he said quietly, putting voice to the rationale he had been turning over in his head over the past sleepless nights. "Love, I suppose, is one of those reasons. I have seen Elves make great sacrifices for love. Lúthien, Arwen…"

"Again the analogy. Why did you choose Galadriel?"

Celeborn sighed. "I did not. She chose me."

Haldir did not reply, and Celeborn chose his words carefully, trying to do justice to the Elf he had always been, rather than this selfish creature he had lately displayed.

"It was an alliance, and it has proven to be a good one. She came to Doriath, and a friendship grew between us… an understanding, which blossomed into love. She chose me as her companion, and of course I agreed. It was an honour, Haldir, to be considered by a woman so great – not only one of the Noldor, but one of the daughters of Finarfin, the lights of the Two Trees shining in her hair… even then, it was easy to be transfixed."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," Celeborn replied immediately. "It is a good alliance. We spent years together, and years apart. She gave me a beautiful daughter, and together we grew stronger and better able to protect our people. I have come to depend on her. She…" Celeborn smiled, remembering. "Do you know her mother-name?"

Haldir shook his head. "I have known her only as Galdriel. Or Galdhriel," he added, offering Celeborn a small smile.

Celeborn smiled broadly, and nodded. "An honour, she has always said. When she came to Doriath, she was Alatáriel."

"Is that Quenya?"

"Telerin. Altáriel in Quenya. It was her epessë, but it became Galadriel in Sindarin."

"And her mother-name?"

"Ah, yes." Celeborn smiled again, remembering. "Nerwen."

"I do not..."

"It means 'man-maiden.'"

"Oh," Haldir replied, and Celeborn could see he was trying not to smile.

"She has always been… the ideal companion. I have fought alongside her, and never thought of her simply as a woman – how could I?"

"And you love her?"

Celeborn nodded. "In my way. We have rarely been… intimate," he admitted, blushing deeply. Of course, he had never discussed such things, but he needed to earn Haldir's trust. "But it is a good alliance. My passion is for fighting, for defence. I have never known a truly peaceful time, even at the start of the Third Age. It never was like this. I developed a passion for protecting those weaker than I, and for the physicality of it, the feel of the bow in my fingers… you understand."

Haldir nodded. "I do."

"And so along with my haven, I lose my refuge. I am not naïve. I understand that this passion is what many others pour into their love for another Elf, but not all. Companionship comes in so many forms… it has never bothered me until now."

"And why does it?" Haldir asked, softly.

"Because I feel this passion for you. And I do not understand it, and I cannot explain it, and it is unexpected and I am afraid. It is not only the attraction, but the timing – why now? Why you? I have lived over eight thousand years in Middle-Earth, and I have known you since the Second Age, for most of your _life_…. it is impossible not to believe that it is somehow fated. That it could only _be_ you."

"Perhaps it is a romantic notion," Haldir replied quietly. "But the fact does not change that you are pledged to her, and that she waits for you in Valinor."

Celeborn frowned. "Do you think she saw this?" he asked softly. "In the Mirror?"

"If she did, would she not try to prevent it?"

"I cannot know. But my Lady has never been much for romance and lovemaking. Perhaps she does not object."

"My Lord, you are being ridiculous."

"I am not…"

"Stop trying to justify, and make things right. You cannot make things right. Sail West and be happy."

"How can I be happy? How can I be happy, after what passed between us?"

"Is it so offensive?"

"No! It was magnificent, and for a moment I felt _free_, and I cannot leave you here to fade. You are too dear to me."

"Again, you are selfish."

"I do not wish to be. I cannot perceive the unselfish path."

"Go on to her, and leave me be."

"Can you say honestly that you want me to do that?"

"No, Celeborn," Haldir said softly. "But it is selfish to betray your loyalty to her."

"It does not feel like a betrayal. Not in my heart."

Haldir sighed. "I would feel guilty for the remainder of time, were it to pass."

"Then come with me," Celeborn suggested. "Come to Valinor, and ask her yourself."

"I cannot do that."

Celeborn sighed. "Then will you pass your time here with me, and see if your heart does not have more yet to say? I will not touch you again, if you do not wish it, but I cannot control the excitement that comes in feeling, for the first time in so many thousands of years, something new. I will be your humble student, and try my utmost to follow your guidance, if only you will teach me to be selfless without forcing me to leave you here to die. I cannot do that."

Haldir stood in silence for a long moment, and then he stepped forwards, lifting Celeborn's hands and holding them in his own, in between their bodies, squeezing gently. It was a touch a thousand times more intimate than he had known, and Haldir's eyes shone with a wisdom far beyond his years.

"I will try."

~*~

Together, they reviewed the battles of old, the ancient maps and texts that Elves long since faded or sailed had thought to record. They brainstormed new theories, strategizing already long-passed campaigns, and at night they sat together and drank rich wine, ate Elrond's superb cuisine. Though Haldir showed hesitancy around Celeborn for weeks, months, even years, their relationship had evolved into something entirely different, a kind of friendship on equal footing that he had never shared with Haldir. The younger Elf called him by his name alone, and he did not disdain friendly touches – a hand on the shoulder or thigh, two hands clasped in greeting or a brief brushing of lips to cheeks. Haldir began to challenge his viewpoints, and to tease, recounting bawdy jokes that would have been entirely inappropriate in the presence of a commander. And as time marched on, the colour returned to Haldir's skin, the frightening pallor and the deadness in his eyes replaced by a pleasant flush and a sparkling light. But Haldir's lessons had bore some fruit, for Celeborn did not associate his friend's recovery with his own proximity, nor did he look again for romantic love with Haldir. He felt himself a member of that strange and secretive group, along with Haldir and Glorfindel, who showed more sympathy now, and in truth Haldir was always beside him in his dreams, no matter the content. But the friendship was altogether more precious to him, and more productive, than a fleeting kiss, one passionate response of his body that brought only more fear and hesitancy.

Still, as the years drew on, the call of the sea grew strong in him, and Haldir was not naïve. They all knew that the last boat would soon sail, and one night as they sat in front of a fire with Glorfindel, drinking mead, Haldir broached the subject.

"Will you be glad to see Aman again?" he asked, facing Glorfindel and sipping from his cup.

"Yes. I must find my peace, eventually."

Haldir nodded, and frowned, his eyes on his own hands.

Celeborn watched him for a long moment before he spoke, his voice coming out low and gravely. "It would be impossible to go," he said. "If you cannot. You may call me selfish if you wish, but I cannot abandon this friendship. It is the truest I have ever known."

Haldir looked up, and he held Celeborn's eyes for a long while. "I am afraid," he admitted finally, his tone nearly inaudible. "But I will go."

Celeborn smiled, and he grasped Haldir's hand tightly in both his own, tears filling his eyes unbidden. Glorfindel did not leave the room, but he remained silent, letting them share in their unnamed joy.

~*~

They slept many nights on the ship, as Ulmo carried it down the long, straight road. Haldir's sleep was fitful, and one night Celeborn came to him when he cried out, finding Haldir pale and shaking, his face coated with sweat.

"I feel as though I am on a precipice," Haldir whispered, his tone shaky but urgent. "If I move but a little, I will tumble into the great unknown." Celeborn saw the abject fear in his eyes, and he too was afraid, and uncertain of the solution. "There is nothing to hold on to," Haldir murmured, and Celborn did the only thing he could, wrapping his arms tightly around his friend, cradling him like a child.

"Hold on to me."

~*~

If Glorfindel noticed that they spent the remainder of their nights at sea clinging to one another in a single bed, Celeborn stroking Haldir's brow and murmuring soothing words, he did not say. Finally they arrived in Aman, at sunrise, the most brilliant sunrise the two Elves had ever seen. They stood speechless on the bow of the great white ship, watching the pinks and yellows of early morning and the shocking beauty of the pale cliffs as they slowly entered the bay. Celeborn's heart filled with an unimaginable joy, a joy he had never known, and he squeezed Haldir's hand until it slipped from his own, and Haldir with a childlike grin dove into the bay at the side of the docking ship, landing in the water with a great splash. Celeborn felt as if he might burst with love, staring down at the wide smile that he had never quite seen on Haldir's face. Glorfindel only stood and smiled to himself as the great Lord of Lothlorien cannonballed into the sparkling turquoise water, with not a care in the world for the grandeur of his white robes, shot through with threads of silver.

~*~

Celeborn did not re-unite with his wife until they reached the gleaming city of Tirion, where she dwelt with her parents and their daughter. It was something of a shock for Celeborn, to be surrounded by so many great names of old, to realise that they lived still in this removed land of splendour. Though he had always known that Aman waited for him, here across the Sea, it was a distant place, difficult to connect with his life in Arda. Seeing Galadriel, however, made it concrete, and she embraced him warmly, pressing her lips to his brow.

"It makes my heart light to see you again," she murmured, clasping his hands in her own. She looked different, more like the girl he had once known, though she was still many years his senior in Doriath. Still, the weight of the ring and of her dominion over Lórien had been lifted from her shoulders, and she was altogether more peaceful.

"I am glad to hear it," he replied, smiling genuinely.

"And also, to see your Marchwarden," she added with a tone that suggested perhaps more knowledge than he might have guessed. Celeborn turned to glance over his shoulder and found Haldir hanging back, speaking with Glorfindel and looking uncertain.

"We have… become very close," he replied cautiously. "The best of friends."

"Hmm. Friends, is it?" She met his eyes knowingly and he coloured under her stare.

"I tell you in truth," he whispered.

"But your heart searches for more."

"I… I once suggested to him that he should come to Aman, and seek your counsel on this matter," Celeborn murmured, not wanting Haldir to overhear. "But he refused, and in truth I am happy. I have lost only what I never had to hold, and the world has not lost him."

She smiled and caressed his cheek. "You are a good man, but you do not need me to tell you so. I do not yet think the story has come to a close between you two, and if it has not, you should surely not count me an obstacle," she said, raising an eyebrow. He blushed again and nodded, and then she released his hand and turned to open their circle, extending her hands to the two fair Elves clad as always in the uniform of warriors.

"Glorfindel, Haldir. Mae govannen, mhellyn."

Glorfindel smiled and stepped forward first, taking her hand and kissing it, then laughing when she embraced him. They spoke in whispered tones for a moment, and then Haldir approached, more hesitantly. Galadriel took both his hands, and kissed his cheek, smiling warmly.

"I am most happy to see you here, Haldir. You must let me know if there is anything you cannot find, or anything you desire."

"Yes, my Lady," he mumbled, keeping his eyes down. She laughed, lightly, and tipped his chin up with her fingers.

"I am no one's lady now. There are some here whom you may choose to honour with formality, but I am one Elf among many great Elves. Please. I consider you family."

Haldir coloured again, but he nodded, and she let him be, kissing Celeborn's brow once more and claiming that she was to run an errand for her father.

"We should see where we are to sleep," Glorfindel suggested. Though they were all free to choose a dwelling place of their own, until they did so, rooms had been prepared for them in Tirion, among the Noldor.

"Will you not share with Galadriel?" Haldir asked, obviously experiencing some discomfort in the pronunciation of the Lady's name alone, when he found his room.

"No," Celeborn said softly, walking around the room and observing its furnishings. "We do not share a bed."

Haldir frowned. "But in Lórien, your talan…"

"…was partitioned, a space for her and a space for me. Haldir, we have not lain together for over five thousand years," Celeborn admitted, smoothing his hand over the bed's fine quilt.

"Five _thousand_?"

"I told you that our physical relationship was… limited."

"Yes, but… that would be… Celebrían?"

Celeborn nodded.

"Oh," Haldir said softly, sitting upon a chair. "I miss our talans," he admitted, hugging his knees in an unusually vulnerable position. Celeborn smiled and walked over, resting his hand on Haldir's shoulder and squeezing gently.

"As do I. There is a difference, I think… the Noldor, they came back to Middle Earth, and some perished there, but many were born in Aman… for them, this is an obvious homecoming. For us, Silvan and Sindar, it is different. It is an end, but not a beginning."

Haldir smiled and looked up. "Or perhaps I hope that it will be," he said softly. Celeborn's heart clenched with something unnameable, and he brushed his hand briefly over Haldir's tightly woven braids.

~*~

Celeborn was not accustomed to feeling intimidated, but meeting Galadriel's parents was something of a nerve-wracking experience, and meeting Ingwë was another experience altogether. He had known that Ingwë was an ancestor of Galadriel's, but the knowledge did not make the meeting any more comfortable. Nor did the majestic mountain of Taniquetil inspire much confidence, making him only feel small and dull in comparison. After a fortnight among such grand company, he begged his wife's leave and journeyed back to the shores from whence they had come. Alqualondë, for some reason, felt more like home to him than any other part of Aman, though it did not have the trees of Lórien or Doriath. He remembered a journey to Nevrast when he was quite young, though, and his first meeting with Glorfindel.

The Teleri bore only slight resemblance to his own people, but the history books told of their relation, how they continued on to Aman after the Silvan and Sindarin lingered in Middle-Earth. They had arrived after the Vanyar and Noldor, and perhaps they were in some way accounted lesser for this reason, but he found a peace in their way of life, which was concerned not with foreword motion or forging great crafts and jewels as the Noldor that had nearly brought the demise of all more than once, but with the sea and the sand and the building of swan-ships. Their ability to heal their bodies and their hearts after the great pain of the Kinslaying was something he did not understand, but respected greatly. Though nothing could match the hurt caused by the first slaying of Elves by Elves, Celeborn had witnessed the murder of a great many friends at the hands of Orcs, Men, and foul beasts.

By the time he reached Alqualondë, it was afternoon, but he continued past the strangely echoing city streets, under their great rocky arch, and beyond the towering pale cliffs to the seashore, the sand still strewn with glittering Noldorin jewels. He smiled at a group of very young Telerin children, running along the waterline, laughing and yelling as they splashed one another. And then he saw a sight that undid him entirely – Haldir, the late afternoon sun warming his face, sitting at the water's edge, his leggings soaked but a smile of absolute tranquillity on his face as he watched the gently bobbing swan-ships and the laughing children. His hair, which Celeborn had only ever seen braided in the fashion of warriors, was loose and flowing, and he looked entirely at peace. Celeborn took a step forward, and then hesitated, having no desire to interrupt his friend's utter happiness. Instead, he turned and walked back to the city, humming a tune whose provenance he had forgotten under his breath.

~*~

After inquiring among a group of Elves relaxing in a garden near the city's centre, Celeborn learned that rooms were available for visitors in the city, and his presence would not be a burden if he wished to stay. Having made up his mind to do so, he went for a stroll, and was inspecting a golden plaque, written in the Teleri language, trying to dredge the meaning of those now-unfamiliar words from his mind when a low voice spoke at his shoulder.

"You observe that young Silvan Elf in a way that I suspect you have never turned your eyes upon my granddaughter."

Celeborn jumped, and turned quickly, finding himself face-to-face with Olwë and the piercing gray eyes that had unnerved him greatly upon their meeting. Olwë was not only Galadriel's grandfather, but had awakened at Cuiviénen and led the Telerin to Aman. The Elves he called his brothers were Thingol, the first Elf under whom Celeborn had served, and Elmo, Celeborn's own grandfather. Though Celeborn might have wanted to ask for tales of old, of his own ancestors, it was entirely impossible to string together a reasonable sentence under the watchful gaze of those eyes.

"Sir?" he mumbled, feeling like a child.

"Do you love him, Celeborn?"

Celeborn shivered visibly and stared at the great Elf. "I…"

"Answer the question."

"Yes," Celeborn whispered.

"Galadriel was never one to be dependent on another Elf, even as a girl. When Celebrian returned to Aman, and told us that she was Galadriel's daughter, that Galadriel ruled over a great kingdom in Middle Earth with her father, I could hardly believe it. But now, the story gains sense."

"I… have never betrayed her," Celeborn murmured, unsure of what to say.

"No," Olwë agreed. "But if this is your reaction, perhaps you should consider more closely what a true betrayal would be," he said, his eyes searching. Celeborn remained silent, and Olwë turned to leave. "You should dine with me this evening," he added, over his shoulder, and then he was gone as abruptly as he had come. Celeborn rubbed his temple, trying to make sense of the Ancient Elf's words, and only finding himself more confused.

 

Olwë's table was not in a room, but under the stars, on a great open lawn in the center of Alqualondë. A young Elf girl showed Celeborn to his place, and he was so busy remarking on his surroundings that at first he did not see Haldir sit down next to him.

"Mae govannen, mellon-nin," Haldir murmured at his left shoulder, and Celeborn turned in surprise, but smiled when he met Haldir's eyes.

"Mae govannen. This is a most remarkable city."

"Yes," Haldir agreed. His hair was braided once again, and he wore dry clothing, but still he looked more at peace with himself than he ever had in Middle-earth. "I find myself quite happy here, near the Sea. It is strange, perhaps."

"No," Celeborn murmured. "I feel it too. Perhaps we would have both continued on with our Telerin ancestors, had we been a part of the Journey."

Haldir nodded and sipped at the pale honey-coloured wine. "I believe you may be right. How was your time with Galadriel's family?"

Celeborn frowned. "It was pleasant."

"You do not appear particularly pleased."

Celeborn smiled at that and pressed his hand gently over Haldir's. "Your observation is correct, mellon-nin, but it was not a bad visit. I merely felt out of place. What there was between us has changed, now that we no longer have a kingdom to rule over together."

Haldir nodded, no judgement in his eyes. "You see her as she lived before you."

"Yes," Celeborn agreed. "Yes, that's exactly it. Before… before the Kinslaying, and the pain of Exile, I believe that Galadriel was free, and after all we have been through, all the parts we have played in the history of Middle-earth, she has finally returned and perhaps can reclaim some of that freedom."

"Do you believe you weigh her down?"

Celeborn frowned. "Yes. But perhaps I would weigh anyone down. You have experienced firsthand my more irritable traits."

Haldir laughed, but shook his head. "I have at that, but it is not so inevitable as you think. You are a good man."

"Perhaps," Celeborn allowed him, taking a bit of fish and crisp fried seaweed. "Are you sleeping?" he asked, his voice a low murmur.

Haldir nodded. "In this land, I am able to. Thank you."

"You have found rooms in Alqualondë?"

Haldir smiled. "Not exactly."

~*~

After dinner, Celeborn was able to see what he meant. On top of the high cliffs that gleamed so brightly in the daytime, there was a wide lawn, reached by a stone stair, and above it only the wide canopy of stars. Haldir smiled softly as they lay side by side, and he took Celeborn's hand between them, pointing with the other at the sky.

"Eärendil."

Celeborn smiled and squeezed his hand. "Do you think you would like to sail the skies like Eärendil the Mariner, Haldir?"

"No," Haldir replied without hesitation. "I am comfortable on the ground, in the trees, here by the sea… but I would not leave this world. Not now."

"Oh," Celeborn softly. "I am… filled with joy, to hear you say that."

Haldir smiled, but did not turn away from the stars, still gently clasping Celeborn's hand. When they drifted off to sleep, Celeborn did not long for a mattress, nor for a blanket. In fact, it was hard to imagine a bed more peaceful, or a more effective soporific than the roar of the waves, crashing on the beach below.

~*~

In the morning, they indulged in a swim, and found the bay dotted with hundreds of Telerin Elves, also enjoying an early morning dip. When Celeborn emerged from the water, he tugged his leggings on over his soaked skin and scowled at Haldir's laughter, his friend having apparently borrowed his simple garment from one of the local Elves. The Telerin dressed quite differently from the Elves of Middle-earth, and had a special bolt of fabric designed particularly for this purpose, that could be wound loosely around the lower body and tied at the waist to allow the body to dry after a swim. The female Telerin were quite accustomed to going about bare breasted on the shore, and Celeborn managed not to avert his eyes in a manner that would suggest offense at the practice. Halfway up the beach, he spotted a familiar face, and broke into a grin.

"Celebrían!" he called, holding his arms out. His daughter, wearing a loose white dress, her fair hair braided and wrapped around her head in a garland as had been her mother's custom, ran forward, but stopped short of embracing him.

"Father, you'll get me wet," she chided, kissing his cheek instead.

"Psh. What are you doing in Alaquondë?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Am I not one quarter Telerin myself? I enjoy the Sea."

"Is Elrond with you?"

"No, no, I only thought I would come see you for a day or two. I sensed some awkwardness in Tirion."

"Ah. It was only… perhaps things have changed, somewhat, between your mother and I."

Celebrían laughed. "She says you have fallen in love with your Marchwarden," she murmured, quiet enough that Haldir, standing a respectful distance apart, would not hear. Celeborn's eyes went wide, but she only giggled again, looking much more like her younger self than the wounded and fading woman she had been when she sailed West so many years ago. "Do not look so shocked, father. It is unusual, but if you love him, you have my blessing, and hers."

"It is not… it is not something to consider," Celeborn murmured. "Aside from the fact of your mother, it is… he does not return my feelings."

"Hmmph. So you admit it, then? You do love him?"

"I wish it were not so."

"Truly?"

Celeborn frowned. "I do not wish to hurt you, or your mother. It would be better were there two of me, one to love him and one to love Galadriel."

Celebrian smiled and touched his cheek. "You know as well as I, that if you had been another Elf, if you had been passionately in love with my mother and desperate to have her, that you never would have succeeded in your quest. The years that you have had, the things that you have done, _my_ very existence, are only due to the fact that you are who you are. And part of who you are may be this strain of… unusual affection. I do not think it bad. Who are we to know every chord of the Music?"

"You believe that it is natural?"

"I believe that I can recognize a love that is pure and true."

"We have… a true friendship," Celeborn said softly.

Celebrían smiled. "You and my mother have a true friendship. What you have with Haldir is something else indeed," she said, and left him with that, walking past him to greet his Marchwarden. Clearly, he had some thinking to do.

~*~

Though he visited Tirion frequently, as the months drew on Celeborn began to build a home in Alqualondë. The city's centre was well populated with huge, deep-rooted trees, and so he constructed a talan, taking great care not to disturb the tree more than was necessary. Haldir did not make any moves towards building his own home, but nor did he leave the coast, spending most nights in the grass on top of the cliff. When it rained, Celeborn invited him to sleep in the talan, and though he made the polite suggestion of taking the floor the first time, Celeborn brushed him off, insisting that they were too close friends not to simply share the bed. In truth, he worried, the minute the words had left his lips, that Haldir did not view their friendship with the intensity and enthusiasm he himself did, but Haldir had agreed, and smiled, and climbed beneath the colourful quilts, and all was well between them.

Though the Telerin were not hoarders, they had as much respect for history and song as any Elf, and the stories were recorded in volumes much as they had been in Rivendell, for Elves too young to remember. There were also a great many wise Elves, and Haldir befriended one Niessa as a tutor. She was a lovely woman, and very learned in the history of the Eldar in Aman, and in Middle-earth, at least so far as news had reached these shores. Haldir took lessons from her in Quenya and Telerin, and Celeborn himself began to remember what his wife had once taught him, though Sindarin was his own first language. Haldir also began to paint and sculpt, and proved himself quite an artist. Celeborn was not jealous of his talent, but felt more and more inept as he passed the months and years in this peaceful place, his own abilities seemingly wasted.

So that he would not grow bored, when he was not visiting his family and friends Celeborn found other occupations, planting a garden at the base of the tree where he lived and learning the art of cuisine from a young Elf who had quite the knack. And from time to time, when passions grew in him, and his fingers twitched for an outlet, Haldir would lead him up the stone stairs to their cliff-lawn, where they would engage in hand to hand combat under the stars.

"It is a question I never asked, in all the Ages of my life in Middle-earth," Celeborn observed as they lay side-by-side on their backs on one of these nights a year after their arrival, gasping for breath as their sweat-soaked bodies cooled in the breeze. "If… we ever succeeded… if we succeeded in the peace that we were fighting for… what use there would be for the fighters once we achieved it?"

They lay for a long moment in silence, and Celeborn thought Haldir's mind had moved on from the question, when he sat up suddenly and reached for his head, slowly unbraiding each tendril of hair with fingers shaking from muscle exertion. Celeborn watched, captivated, as the hair fell downy soft to Haldir's shoulders, slightly wavy from the braids. When the last lock finally fell, he turned to Celeborn and placed one firm palm on Celeborn's chest.

"Antan órenya tyenna," he murmured, his voice crystal clear in this broad space above the echos of the seaside city, and completely sure. Celeborn could only stare for a long minute, not daring to believe, but then he reached up slowly and curled his fingers around Haldir's hand, bringing it to his own lips and pressing them gently to the knuckles. He had not dared to hope, to think about how this moment might play out. Despite the urgings of Galadriel and Olwë and Celebrian, despite their assurances, he had not paused to think it. Now he remembered Olwë's words, and he knew what a true betrayal would be. He would not betray Haldir, nor his own heart. Nor would he embrace Haldir in a fit of passion and leave just as quickly. This time, Celeborn would be true to himself.

"Nalyë melmë cuilenya," he replied, holding Haldir's hand just under his chin, his voice just as steady and clear. His stomach muscles protested as he tightened them to reach up, but Haldir bent and met him halfway, the kiss soft and sweet and still igniting every fire Celeborn had thought extinguished, a passion that came to him now only in his most vivid dreams. He let out a soft cry, and then he reached up and wrapped his arms around Haldir's neck, pulling him to the grass. "I am tired," he whispered, touching his forehead to Haldir's. "So tired."

Haldir smiled and stroked his cheek, kissing him softly. "Then let me take care of you."

And so he did.


End file.
